I Swear on a Stack of Sacrilege
by vnitas
Summary: Once upon a time, in a hellhole called Houston, Texas, there lived a homeless guy/angel named Roxas and a mechanic/demon named Axel. axelroxas. In a constant state of revision. Updates every month or your money back.


**Notes: **Inspired by Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. Have been writing this in the notes section of my school planner. I'm going to try to turn this into a novella. If it comes out short, I'm gonna commit homicide.

* * *

Once upon a time in a hellhole called Houston, Texas, and I know this because I saw them, there lived a homeless guy/angel named Roxas and a mechanic/demon named Axel.

You may think that I am lying, because everyone does, but I am not. There really was an Angel of the Lord named Roxas, I swear on a stack of sacrilege. And there really was a slithery dark-magic demon named Axel, pinkie promise in front of Jesus. Neither were particularly important in the ranks of God or the Devil. Perhaps there was fanfare around the creation of Gabriel, but when God created Roxas, he sort of just looked at him and went, "Oh." So that's why you've never heard of them. And what reason would I have to lie to you? None. So they were real. God's honest truth.

As for how they, being servants of God and the Devil (respectively) came to be in Houston. Roxas had never really liked being an angel, had shunned his duties for the most part. He'd lived there since before it was Houston. Upwards of a thousand years, I suppose. That's what I think, anyway, because he loved that toilet of a city, and I don't jump to my conclusions without good reason. Roxas, being an angel, he could change forms, which was a good way of hiding that he lived forever. He took all kinds of forms, old men and children and chefs and pigeons. But his favorite form to take was that of a golden-haired teenaged boy. Yes, a boy with gold-gold hair and blue-blue eyes. As often as he could he'd take this form, and revel in it. This body was pretty, and it helped him get things. Since he didn't care for working, he was mostly homeless, which suited him just fine, but the batting eyelashes on those big blue eyes and the soft voice that carried his pretty pleases got him places to sleep when it was cold.

And Axel, he was a drifter. Always was, always would be.

The morning they met began like any other, with Roxas waking up at four underneath an overpass.

It was the middle of the Houston summer; sticky, slow, and, despite the sun not even being _out_ yet, too fucking hot. Something smelled rancid as Roxas' thin, cutesy eyelids fluttered open, and he rolled over onto his stomach, grinding his nose against the dirty pillow to try and block it out. Didn't work. It smelled like garbage, or something left on the stove too long, or garbage left on the stove too long. He threw a hand out absently and felt for his bike. His palm came down on a tire. He closed his fingers around it before realizing that that would make his hand dirty. He jerked back and lifted his head to look at his hand, which was now covered in dirt and God knew what else.

The overpass was quiet, given the time of morning/night; calming. Roxas sat up slowly, stretching his stiff birdlike limbs. His stomach growled. He leaned forward with his head on his knees, trying to snap away from the cocoon of sleep around him. And it was then that he noticed the pickup truck on fire by the side of the road.

The fire appeared to have caught on to a pile of trash in the bed of the truck, but was moving fast. There was a tall man with bright red hair getting out of it, swearing. He stood back with his hands on his hips and looked hard at the fire, but didn't necessarily try to stop it, like, "Oh golly gee darn, my car's on fire, look at that."

Roxas eyed the scene for a moment. As an angel, he should definitely be helping, but he wasn't very good at being an angel. He considered it more part-time then full-time.

But still, Roxas wasn't a bad _person_.

"Do you need help?" Called Roxas.

"No," said the man. "I'm good."

"Alright," said Roxas. He started to get back on his stupid fucking ten-speed little girl bike. It was light blue with pink handlebars.

"Wait," yelled the man. "My car's on fire."

"Why didn't you say that, then," said Roxas, dropping his bike unceremoniously and striding towards the truck.

"Is your name Axel?" Asked Roxas.

"Well, yeah. How did you know?"

"A feeling," said Roxas, and did not elaborate further. He looked to the truck

Roxas put out his hand, and blinked twice, and the fire was gone.

It was a bad truck. Before the fire it might have been skirting the line of being an okay truck, but now it was just a bad truck. It was bright red. It had scratches and dings and dirt on the sides and the shotgun window wouldn't close all the way. Cautiously, Axel poked the heap of burnt garbage with a stick. A wisp of trapped smoke escaped into the dawn.

"Well," said Roxas, for lack of anything better to say.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Asked Axel.

"Well," said Roxas. "I'm an angel."

"Why're you tellin' _me_ that? You're supposed t' keep it a secret."

"I know you're a demon."

Axel jumped. "_How?_"

"You have the marks on your _face_."

Axel touched the triangles on his cheekbones, one under each eye. "Well shit."

Silence for a moment.

"What were you doing here at four in the morning?"

"I was riding my bike. Getting exercise," Roxas lied compulsively.

"Ah. You _look_ liked one of those early morning exercise types."

Roxas was wearing a hole-ridden t-shirt that he had not changed out of in three days. "That's not actually true, I'm homeless."

"Bet you shop at Whole Foods, too." Said Axel thoughtfully.

"I'm homeless."

"What? Oh. Sorry. Lost in thought."

Axel started pushing the burnt garbage out of his truck.

"Why did you have all that trash in your truck?

"I sort of just let it pile up."

"How'd it catch fire?"

"Cigarette."

"In the bed of the truck?"

"I threw it."

"Ah."

The ashes and soda cans were piling up on the ground. Axel stopped for a moment and put his hands on his hips.

"I am eternally indebted to you now." said Axel.

"And how do you plan to repay that debt?"

"I'll give you rides around town."

"Sounds good." Roxas climbed into the bed of the truck.

"What, now?" Asked Axel.

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm headed to work now."

"Where?"

"Garage. I'm a mechanic."

"A grease monkey."

"The most monkeyest of all the grease monkeys."

"I wanna go."

"I can't just show up with a homeless guy in my the bed of my truck."

"I'll give you a kiss," said Roxas."

Axel contemplated it.

"Alright."

Axel got in the front of the truck and gunned the engine, and it started.


End file.
